


Forget Me Not

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Curses, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Immortality, M/M, Modern Era, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reincarnation, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: FE3H Kinkmeme prompt:VW or SS Felix (absolutely no CF) Felix becomes a mercenary but he takes the wrong job or something goes wrong and he gets made immortal. Don't care how he's made immortal.Now given how memories work, Felix forgets most of what he's experienced in his long life. It's only natural. Memories are finite and majority of our memories fade. But his memories of Dimitri are always sharp. It's torture, until he runs into who is beyond a doubt the reincarnation of Dimitri in the modern world! Is this a second chance?
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 67
Collections: Anonymous, FE3H Kink Meme





	Forget Me Not

"I'm cursed, is what you're saying," Felix said numbly. 

Byleth grimaced. "Yes," she confirmed. She pointed at the artifact on the table. "Seteth said that it's imbued with ancient and dark magic. Whatever you've done, you managed to trigger it."

All Felix had done was kick it. By accident. He and Leonie had been on an escort mission for a merchant when a black cube had fallen off of the wagon in front of him. Felix's boot had collided before he had gotten the chance to pick it up, and then, all of a sudden, he had been convulsing with searing pain. 

As it turned out, the merchant had been ferrying contraband magical items, hoping to sell them in the black market. After the man had been arrested, Leonie had thrown Felix on the back of her horse and had ridden them to Garreg Mach. 

It would have been more practical to send Felix to a nearby medic rather than embark on a five-hour-long trip to see the Archbishop. However, as it turned out, Leonie had made the right call because Felix had been cursed with immortality.

Immortality.

Tales far and wide would depict men fighting, journeying, and lusting for immeasurable power, infinite riches, and the ability to live forever. And now that Felix had one of those three that humanity had long coveted, he found himself feeling hollow. He would never be able to die as time would never touch him, forever leaving his body youthful. He was impervious to ailments and injuries and could withstand drowning as long as he surfaced. 

But where others might see this as a blessing, Felix saw this as a curse. 

"Everyone will leave me again," he murmured. He thought about Glenn, his father, those who had died in the war. Dimitri. There was a dull ache in his chest. 

Byleth placed a hand on his shoulder. Felix didn't shrug away her touch; instead, he leaned forward, welcoming her warmth as he buried his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Felix," she whispered. 

* * *

Centuries had passed, and yet, to Felix, time seemed to flow past him in a matter of seconds. 

He had watched the world change. The seasons had cycled, the land accommodating for growth and decay and birth of new life. This had pertained not only to nature but also to the people and how their thoughts, ideas, concepts had taken root. 

Felix had watched Sylvain and Ingrid implement and facilitate new laws over their territories, ushering in a kinder era where Crests didn't dictate one's worth. He had watched their children, all Crestless, inherit their legacy as his friends had happily retired and drifted away into the background. Sylvain and Ingrid had spent the remainder of their years in quiet and peaceful bliss. 

Felix had watched Leonie bring aid to the crown to chase away the last of Those Who Slither in the Dark, and then returning to mercenary work until there were no more bandits to clear. With Fodlan at peace and reasons for fighting scarce, Leonie had returned to her village, finally settling down and even forming her own family. 

Felix had watched Queen Byleth of Fodlan and King Khalid of Almyra create peaceful ties between their respective countries and an alliance that would, from then on, boast a strong, amicable union.

The two had worked tirelessly to bring forth peace, not just among their kingdoms but also within their lands. They had ensured that not another tragedy would ever befall upon a child as it had with Lysithea, with Edelgard, with Dimitri. They had driven the Agarthans out of their nest and had stamped them out of existence. 

Felix had watched his friends - the former Golden Deers, the survivors of the former Blue Lions - grow old and older, going through the motions of life that brought them new experiences that came with age. Of joy and sadness, of anger and despair, of splendor and wonder.

Felix had seen many children running around, their laughter carefree and ringing with a familiarity of his school days. He had seen his friends make mistakes - terrible ones, even - but such as was with humanity. Yet with every hardship, they had persevered. 

The world, along with its people, had changed. Advanced technology and novel concepts had swept the nation, propelling them to a remarkably different age. Felix had watched, as the decades had rolled by, the nobility system slowly crumbling away until its inevitable dismantling. A monarchy had fallen as a parliament had risen; and the people, regardless of their birth and status, could climb the ranks based on their abilities. 

This was surely a world that his friends would have loved to see. 

And along with these changes, Felix had carried vague imprints of the past, the finer details carried away by the winds of time. Centuries had been set between now and the deaths of his friends and his friends' children. Though undying that he might be, Felix wasn't infallible. His memory worked as well as anyone else's, which his past had become frayed and faded as he moved on to see another day.

Felix couldn't remember what Sylvain and Ingrid had looked like anymore. He couldn't remember what his childhood had exactly been like or what he had learned in the academy. He didn't even remember what Byleth's voice had sounded like. He could guess, and there would be a familiarity that would resonate within him, but he could never be certain. 

Seteth and Flayn - Cichol and Cethleann - could remember clearly despite being much older than him, but that was perhaps the case when they were Nabateans. Nevertheless, they were grounding to be around with as they were the only ones who remained. 

Felix, once upon a time, had detested the idea of being mired to the past. Now, he was forever stagnant, fixed only at the present where he could merely float aimlessly towards the future. His past was where his identity and history existed, and to go on in a world where there was not one person who knew him was...

It was daunting. 

That was why Felix had stopped living alone in the woods and the mountains. He had long ago taken up residence in Garreg Mach, seeing Seteth and Flayn day-to-day. 

He had no particular role within the Church. He used to be a patrol officer, but he had to stop to minimize his interactions with others. Sometimes, he would act as Seteth's courier and assistant. Sometimes, he would be Flayn's assistant and help organize events. Whatever interesting would pop up, Felix would be inclined to participate. It wasn't as though he could just train his swordsmanship all day to keep the mediocrity at bay, especially when there was no longer a need for a sword. 

As it was, today was the day where Flayn would require his aid in organizing orientation for the upcoming new students. While there had been hundreds of schools established throughout Fodlan, Garreg Mach prevailed as the country's most prestigious institution. 

The monastery had been renown for not only its rich history but also for its acclaimed academia. Garreg Mach hadn't changed much in that regard, even if the professors no longer taught the students how to take up arms or the art of warfare.

Swarms of children would be entering these great halls just as Felix had a lifetime ago. And, just like every year, Felix would watch from afar, distantly intrigued by how each generation would distinguish itself from the one preceding it. He wasn't like Flayn where he wished to integrate among the masses, and he wasn't like Seteth where he cared to guide the youth to a bright future.

That was why Felix had never bothered directly involving himself with the students. But while he didn't interact with them, he still liked to observe. 

The week came and went, and, soon, the monastery was welcoming a legion of children. They arrived in buses and cars, and entered with their rolling luggage. Friends reunited with wide smiles and elated cries, and parents fussed over their young ones. And perched high on the building to see it all was Felix and Flayn.

Flayn, as every year since she had risen from her decades-long nap, buzzed with excitement at the prospect of making new acquaintances if not friends. However, with digital technology rapidly advancing, Seteth had been been wary enough to reduce her exposure in fear of arousing suspicion. It had been bad enough that Flayn had gotten her picture taken years ago; if people were to notice that she hadn't aged since then, that would be problematic. 

"If you lean any further, you'll fall," Felix remarked. 

"I'm not so clumsy that I would do that," Flayn dismissed, although she did pull back. She beamed up at him. "Are you not excited?"

"It's same as every year," he said irreverently. "What's there to be excited about?"

"I can think of a few reasons." Flayn's eyes glinted with intrigue. "I have heard that sons and daughters of very important people will be attending this year."

He rolled his eyes. "As they do every year." While the monarchy and nobility were a thing of the past, modern aristocrats had taken the role of the upper class and had continued the tradition of sending their children to Garreg Mach. Politicians, corporate leaders, high-ranking officers, renowned artisans, and the like had graduated the monastery and would have their children do the same with the expectation that they would follow their footsteps. 

"But I have a good feeling about this year," Flayn insisted. "This year's batch will be something extraordinary."

Well, it wasn't like Flayn to say such a thing. Begrudgingly curious, Felix asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Like I said, it's just a feeling." She smiled - rather impishly for someone like her - before skipping away. Felix scrunched his brows, unimpressed. As if he would put much stock on a feeling. 

He returned his attention out the window. Where the common folk - the middle class, his mind supplied - gathered in the front of the monastery, the upper class had to drive a little ways off to the side due to their vehicles and precautionary reasons. There, he wondered, would any of his friends' descendants be attending again?

It never ceased to amaze him just how different yet similar each generation was to the first. The Gautier name had disappeared when the last known Gautier had taken his wife's family name. While no one went by Gautier anymore, it was easy to spot who descended from that lineage - the trademark reddish-orange hair and honey-brown eyes. Felix had met and spoken to a child who had essentially been Sylvain's female incarnate. The resemblance had been uncanny and ridiculous.

The Galatea name held strong thanks to Ingrid's brothers. Their grandchildren had moved out of the north and spread throughout Fodlan, spawning many more Galateas. But where the Galatea name remained, they all differed in appearance and personality. 

Miraculously enough, the Gloucester name continued, having become a prominent family that dealt with trade and marketing. There had been people out there who had willingly continued Lorenz's line despite how Lorenz-like the Gloucesters had been. Maybe people were genuinely into types like that - Felix wouldn't know. 

Felix sometimes heard the occasional Pinelli, Victor, and Kirsten. The Goneril and Reigan names held strong, although Edmund and Ordelia had disappeared like how Gautier had. To his surprise, though the children shouldn't be compared to their predecessors, Aegirs and Vestras hadn't died off despite their historical ties to the Empire.

Felix personally didn't know whether he ought to be astounded or not to find out that the Fraldarius family remained as they always had since the founding of the Kingdom - in the northern region of Fodlan by the sea. 

However, there was one name that Felix knew with certainty wouldn't resurface, and that was Blaiddyd. 

Just like how Edelgard had been the last Hresvelg, Dimitri had been the last Blaiddyd. He had been the only child of his family, had no children of his own as had his uncle. His grandfather's siblings had died young, and his great grandfather had likewise been the sole son. That had been as far as Felix had gone when he had glanced over the royal family tree. 

Dimitri was supposed to be the last of his kind, yet, as Felix strolled across the garden, hoping to enjoy the terrace before the students would flock to it, that all changed when his gaze locked with another's. 

Impossibly blue eyes placed on a handsome, fair face. Golden hair, touseled in a way that was more messy than artful. His features were boyish and his body was lanky, but his frame was tall and shoulders broad. 

"Oh, hello," Dimitri's lookalike greeted, smiling warmly. 

* * *

  
(It had been a lie. His memories hadn't been entirely frayed and faded. There had been one person who would persistently haunt him.)

("To undo the spell," Byleth had relayed, reading from the tome, "would be to receive the kiss of the one who you love. Otherwise, you would forever see their image in your mind.")

(Felix would see _him_ wherever he went, in whatever he did. Where Sylvain and Ingrid, Leonie and Byleth, and everyone else had become gray distortions with indistinct faces, _he_ had always stuck out with dazzling clarity. _His_ golden hair, blue eyes, gentle smile... _His_ voice, deep and soothing, polite and sheepish... Felix could never forget about _him._ )

(He could never forget how he had rejected _him_ at every turn - out of disdain and fear. He could never forget how he had abandoned _him_ to join another house, and how he had pledged himself to another authority instead of choosing _him._ He could never forget how his heart had fallen to the pit of the stomach when he had learned about _his_ death - not just once, but twice. Back on Gronder Field where _he_ had returned from the dead, only to remain with the dead for good.)

(There had been...so many lost chances, all of which that Felix could have salvaged but had chosen to rebuff.)

(If only hands of time could go back so that Felix could choose _him_ instead. But time could only move forward, not back. He could only have these vivid recollections of _him_ to remind him of his regrets.)

(Felix could never forget about Dimitri.)

* * *

His name was Alexander Beaumont, a first-year student of Garreg Mach. He was fourteen, but he would turn fifteen in the winter. He was the son of a well-to-do man who owned a law firm. He was _fourteen_.

Nothing in his family history implied that he had any Blaiddyd blood in him, albeit there were traces of an obscure noble family from the former Leicester region. Yet this boy was identical to how Dimitri had been at his age - from his smiles, to his height, to his face - even his kind, soft personality was uncannily like his. And he was _fourteen-years-old_ , so Felix didn't understand why Flayn kept pushing him to make the first move.

"No," he snapped. "He's just a child. I won't do such a thing."

"Is it any less improper for you to stalk him?" Flayn responded.

"I'm not stalking; I'm reconning."

Flayn had the gall to roll her eyes, and Felix was reminded why Seteth wanted to minimize their interactions. Felix both loved and hated how much the girl had adopted many of his habits. "I'm not saying that you must do anything untoward to him. If anything, I would strongly reprimand you if you were to do so."

Felix sighed. "Then what are you suggesting?"

"Talk to him. Befriend him. Get to know him as a person rather than observe him from afar." 

"Yes, but for what? He's not Dimitri nor will I use him as a replacement."

"Of course not, but don't you think that him being here means something?"

Felix frowned. He couldn't deny the possibility of that. He was far too old to dismiss the works of miracles when he had been a witness to them for many lifetimes, Byleth being one of them. 

But if Flayn was insinuating that the Goddess had placed Dimitri's reincarnation before him to finally break his curse, then Felix was going to have a hard time swallowing that. 

Felix did want this prolonged suffering to end. No human was meant to live as long as he did, and it showed through his apathy towards everything. He would always try to find ways to curb his boredom, but the void of interest was all-consuming. And yet, the second Alexander had appeared, Felix's world had been nothing but an endless spiral of curiosities and intrigue.

Based on the knowing looks that Flayn would shoot him, Felix knew that he hadn't been subtle. But how could he restrain himself when, for once in his immortal life, there was something that captivated him as strongly as this boy?

Nonetheless, Felix couldn't step out into the sunlight and reach his hand out to Alexander. How could he possibly insert himself into the boy's life? Felix was an old man in a young adult's body, and to approach a child with the intent of using him... No, that would be wrong. That would be horrible. 

Felix had already wasted his chance with Dimitri, especially when he had left the Kingdom to join Claude and the Alliance. What right did he have to move on to Alexander?

That would be wrong. Horrible. Disgusting. Creepy. 

Flayn seemed to have picked up on his darkening thoughts when she laced her delicate hand with his calloused one. "You have lived long and have seen many things," she said gently. "Do you not believe that the Goddess cannot grant her mercy unto you?"

"Regardless of it being her mercy," Felix began, but he trailed off when the words wouldn't come to him. 

"I understand that you think of yourself as unworthy, but that isn't for you to decide," Flayn continued. 

Felix didn't respond. 

* * *

Felix had watched Alexander for two years. Even at seventeen, the boy was lanky and awkward, kind-hearted and warm. Yet he had grown more handsome, more like a man, and he would undoubtedly be captivating to look at by the time he would reach adulthood. He looked more and acted more like Dimitri everyday, and Felix's heart hurt all the more for that. 

Felix knew that he should stop, but he couldn't help it. His eyes automatically spotted the boy wherever he went, and his ears strained to hear his deep voice and rumbling laughter. And to see those eyes clear of storms, his smiles genuine and carefree, his life unhindered by tragedies and death - Felix couldn't _stop_. This was how Dimitri would have been if he had been happy, if the world hadn't robbed him of his family and hadn't thrown him into hell. 

But Alexander wasn't Dimitri, and Dimitri wasn't Alexander. And Felix couldn't stop making the comparison, so he never dared to approach him. 

If this was the Goddess's way of showing him mercy, then the Goddess truly had a cruel sense of humor. What mercy? This was _torment_. Every day, Felix could feel his chest tighten with ache, his insides twist with insatiable longing. And, every day, Felix would leave Alexander be. 

Someone like Alexander shouldn't be involved with a boar like Felix. 


End file.
